Jack
his soul was made of ice.
As ironic as it was, there was a boy who was named 'Jack Frost,' and it was the truest name he could ever have. In silly folklore, Jack Frost is said to be somewhat like a sprite or a pixie who controlled the changing of autumn to winter. Jack couldn't have had any better name, for everything he touched froze and seemed to crumple and die underneath his fingertips.
He had a nose with a slightly long, narrow bridge and the tip rounded and cute, a button nose. His eyes were a cold, light blue and had gray and white streaks shooting out through them. They were hard and would chill you to the bone to look into. Hair so blonde it was nearly white stood all over his head in an array of directions, almost defying gravity. Perhaps the most shocking thing about his appearance was the shade of his skin, he appeared as if he had risen from the dead and he had no blood running through his veins. To describe him as being snow white would have been a vast understatement. His fingernails had a bluish hue to them and his lips were also a blue-gray. Jack Frost was void of any sort of color that possessed a meaning other than cold.
Though this was the case, Jack Frost wasn't always so cold and grim. In fact, he was quite the opposite just a couple of years before. Though he'd never been a chipper person and had always been cold and mean spirited, at one time he used to possess a different demeanor and appearance. His hair was a midnight color and his eyes were a deep cyan, lighting up the room with his mischievous behavior.
Maybe it was a change in the air or he had just packed his heart so full of ice that it flowed through his veins and froze his entire being. For one morning, when Jack Frost woke up and looked into the mirror, his midnight hair was so blonde it was almost white and his mischievous eyes had faded out into a dull, hard, frigid blue-gray. His skin that once was somewhat tanned had had the color drained from it, making him look like a cadaver. Some people whispered that you could even see his breath and that he had a frosty glaze over his skin like an ice cube being taken out of the freezer.
From that day forward, the air around him seemed to be a little bit colder and his hands seemed to nip at your skin like the first days of December morning air would. He seemed to only lure people in, both boys and girls alike, to take their heart in his wintry hands and blow his icy breath onto it, freezing it solid and leaving them incomplete. Instead of being like Medusa and turning those who looked at him to stone, one glance from Jack Frost would give them a colder chill than running outside naked in Antarctica during August.
They say it was because the only girl he'd ever loved had left him for reasons undisclosed. Others said it was just him trying to act out and rebel. My mother always said a cold heart was a dead heart and if that were true, Jack Frost's heart had never been alive to start with. In all reality, as ironic as it was, there was a boy named 'Jack Frost,' and it was the truest name he could ever have.
He had a nose with a slightly long, narrow bridge and the tip rounded and cute, a button nose. His eyes were a cold, light blue and had gray and white streaks shooting out through them. They were hard and would chill you to the bone to look into. Hair so blonde it was nearly white stood all over his head in an array of directions, almost defying gravity. Perhaps the most shocking thing about his appearance was the shade of his skin, he appeared as if he had risen from the dead and he had no blood running through his veins. To describe him as being snow white would have been a vast understatement. His fingernails had a bluish hue to them and his lips were also a blue-gray. Jack Frost was void of any sort of color that possessed a meaning other than cold.
Though this was the case, Jack Frost wasn't always so cold and grim. In fact, he was quite the opposite just a couple of years before. Though he'd never been a chipper person and had always been cold and mean spirited, at one time he used to possess a different demeanor and appearance. His hair was a midnight color and his eyes were a deep cyan, lighting up the room with his mischievous behavior.
Maybe it was a change in the air or he had just packed his heart so full of ice that it flowed through his veins and froze his entire being. For one morning, when Jack Frost woke up and looked into the mirror, his midnight hair was so blonde it was almost white and his mischievous eyes had faded out into a dull, hard, frigid blue-gray. His skin that once was somewhat tanned had had the color drained from it, making him look like a cadaver. Some people whispered that you could even see his breath and that he had a frosty glaze over his skin like an ice cube being taken out of the freezer.
From that day forward, the air around him seemed to be a little bit colder and his hands seemed to nip at your skin like the first days of December morning air would. He seemed to only lure people in, both boys and girls alike, to take their heart in his wintry hands and blow his icy breath onto it, freezing it solid and leaving them incomplete. Instead of being like Medusa and turning those who looked at him to stone, one glance from Jack Frost would give them a colder chill than running outside naked in Antarctica during August.
They say it was because the only girl he'd ever loved had left him for reasons undisclosed. Others said it was just him trying to act out and rebel. My mother always said a cold heart was a dead heart and if that were true, Jack Frost's heart had never been alive to start with. In all reality, as ironic as it was, there was a boy named 'Jack Frost,' and it was the truest name he could ever have.
♠ ♠ ♠
yes, August is the coldest month of the year in Antarctica.